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Cain needs to let me in.
That’s the only way we will have a future together.
He has to show me the skeletons in his closet.
And I have to learn to love those parts of him, too.
37
Layla
Days have passed since our weekend getaway. Now, I’m back in my apartment, alone, and back to camping out in my living room, missing Cain.
Since being back in the city, I haven’t seen him; only phone calls and texts have kept us in contact with each other.
Working keeps me busy. But, if I thought that writing an amazing article for The Elysian would kick-start my career, I was wrong. Since the article has not been published yet, it’s hard to leverage it for a promotion. It will be published next month, so hopefully, then I’ll be able to take full advantage of the notoriety I’m hoping the piece gets. If all goes as planned, I can start applying for other jobs this fall. Or, at least, one can hope.
Unfortunately, that means that right now, I’m back home, working on the piece I didn’t finish today at work.
I’m just not inspired in the office or by this boring as hell topic. How did I fall back into an article about freaking faucets? Now, I’m forced to work on it at home.
“The Best Faucets to Buy if You Love Retro” is my demise today.
I let out a sigh.
This blows.
I stare at the images of the faucets. Sure, they’re cool . . . but they’re also, you know, FAUCETS.
That’s when I focus on the TV news program that has been on in the background. To this point, I haven’t been paying attention, but now, the news anchor has updates on . . .
Another murder by The Compass Killer.
After the short commercial break, the female reporter is back on, front and center.
“Recent developments have indicated that there has been another body found. The ritualistic practices of the serial killer lead detectives to believe that The Compass Killer has returned and seems to be killing at an alarming rate.”
She turns to her cohost. “What do you think that means for our residents, John? Why are the killings accelerating after so many years dormant? Is there any evidence that investigators have shared to explain this rash occurrence?”
“Well, Hailey, it’s not good for our citizens, especially with the criminologists playing their cards so close to the vest. We need the police to be straightforward with the residents of our surrounding communities.”
“John, do you think it is possible the states will enact a curfew as a result?”
“Well, let’s analyze what we know of the original murders and compare them to the new ones. We have confirmed in all but one case, the victims were young women, early twenties, blond hair, blue eyes. All of this matches the original MO. of the serial killer that terrorized New York and New Jersey so many years ago.
“Victim Cynthia Richards did not match the age constraints, which explains why the police were not convinced it was The Compass Killer at first glance. Ms. Richards wasn’t of the right age.”
“But surely Ms. Richards must have had the same markers as the other victims.”
“For our viewers back home, can you go over the evidence you think the detectives have, John?”
“Certainly, Hailey. Warning: The following material may be sensitive to some of our audience members. The killer not only slices his victim’s neck but would also paint a north-pointing compass arrow on their forehead with the victim’s own finger. We believe he keeps the finger as a trophy and places their bodies pointing north before leaving the scene of the crime.”
“This information is so very disturbing, John. Do investigators have any scenarios they are willing to share as to what set the murderer into the latest rash of killings? Maybe he was incarcerated for something else and released? Or maybe Ms. Richards was a copycat, and maybe her murder brought out the original . . .”
“Interesting spin. I guess only time will tell.”
Their words spin in my head, and I think about the original cases and Cynthia’s murder.
Cynthia, the woman who visited The Elysian and followed Cain.
I wonder what was different about her, or maybe the newscaster was right. She was murdered by someone else. Maybe that murder was made to look like The Compass Killer so that the killer could get away with it. Instead, it brought the original killer out of hiding.
There’re so many questions that don’t make sense in these reports. But I know I need to get to the bottom of this. I can’t sit here writing about faucets when I could be doing something important.
I could help solve this crime. I could piece together The Compass Killer. I stand from where I’m sitting, a new resolve etching its way inside me. I start to pace the room.
